Sweet, an Angel & Veronica Mystery
by tensassistant
Summary: There is a new mystery for Veronica to solve as Angelina 'Angel' Celestina Isabella Sweet, Logan Echolls' cousin, visits Neptune.
1. Sweet Beginnings

It had been a long hot day, sitting beside the pool in her tiny Calvin Klein bikini. It had been so difficult to feel like turning over on her back when the timer went off around noon. All in all it had been a hard day for Angel Sweet. She had just arrived in Neptune this morning and it was so unfamiliar to her. Not to mention she was so beautiful that it was almost impossible to go anywhere but her own backyard without some boy (or even girl!) hitting on her.

Sighing long-sufferingly, she sat up and turned her faultlessly toned, tanned slender body until her gorgeous, smooth legs cascaded over the edge of the lawn chair. Flipping her long, waist-length blonde hair out of her face and adjusting her perfect Jackie-O sunglasses above her pert, adorable little nose and scanning the empty green lawn with brilliant blue eyes, she pulled herself gracefully into a standing position.

And bumped straight into Logan Echolls' bare chest.

"Oh my," she giggled and tilted her head to look up at him. "I didn't see you there."

"Obviously," was all he said before putting both hands on her forearms and moving her out of his way.

Stomping her pretty little foot, Angel pouted and turned around after Logan. "Cousin," she almost whined, "why do you hate me?"

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Logan said sweetly, "Angel, you are the epitome of flawlessness. A good boy has to stay away." Without a look back toward her, he dove seamlessly into the clear blue water of the pool.

Still pouting, Angel wrapped the big fluffy white towel around her tiny waste as tightly as she could in as close to an imitation of angry prude behavior she could muster. She stalked angrily from the deck into the house as the front doorbell rang. Glancing out the window beside the door, Angel could see Veronica Mars' ugly little car in the driveway and inwardly groaned.

Angel yanked the door open with an exasperated, "What do you want?"

Veronica laughed lightly and gazed amusedly at Angel for a beat before saying, "I'm here to see Logan. Mind moving out of my way, cousin dear?"

Angel plucked the Jackie-Os from her eyes and allowed her gaze to drop condescendingly down over Veronica who was wearing a typically conservative outfit. When her eyes reached Veronica's face she noticed a sudden change in the other girl. Veronica was biting her lower lip and looking away, seemingly almost out of breath.

"What is your problem?" Angel demanded.

"Your eyes. They┘" Gulping and then throwing back her shoulders with resolve, Veronica shook her head as if coming out of a daydream. She laughed again and said, "Ok, excuse me. I need to talk to Logan."

"Whatever," Angel said and stepped aside.

As Veronica passed the amazingly beautiful blonde, her elbow brushed the girl's arm. A small snakelike shiver spread from her spine outward, causing goosebumps to appear all over her skin. Veronica gasped and frowned slightly, glancing at the retreating girl. Her mind wandered to a region it had never been before in all her years of thinking about the weird and impossible.

Suddenly Veronica was encircled by strong, arms and treated to a soaking wet full body hug. She jumped and hit Logan on the shoulder. "You ass. You scared me. And now I'm all wet!"

"That's how I like you," he grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "What in the world were you thinking about? You were off in another universe."

Turning bright red, Veronica shook her head and rested her cheek safely out of sight against his arm. "Nothing. Nothing whatsoever."

It took Veronica ten minutes and a few knee-buckling kisses to remember why it was she'd come over in the first place to talk to Logan. By that time Angel had returned from changing out of her bikini and had settled on the couch in the living room with an ice mask on her face, complaining the sun had given her a headache.

Veronica pulled Logan aside into the dining room and said, "There was a murder last night at the beach. No one knows who she is and of course Lamb thinks she was just some suicidal runaway. They found an ID bracelet on her wrist that said Elsivia Monsk but no one has reported an Elsivia Monsk missing."

Logan listened patiently with a bemused smile. He was sort of humoring her because there was always some new mystery in Neptune for her to tackle. When she talked about the latest mystery her entire face shone with the light of the sun and made her absolutely exquisite to him. He was reminded of why he loved her each time she shared her excitement for these things with him. The only thing he didn't relish was the inevitable danger she would be in if this turned out to be a real murder.

"What can I do to help?" he asked when she'd finished. He ran his fingers gently through her hair and she smiled almost distractedly at him.

"Nothing at the moment. I just wanted you to know that I'm going to be a little out of touch for a couple days. I was up late last night scouring the internet for clues and I've decided that Elsivia Monsk must be a phony name. It's going to take all my resources to find out who this girl was."

From the next room Angel cleared her throat loudly. Both Logan and Veronica glanced in the direction of the doorway then back at each other with mirrored expressions of amusement and furrowed brows.

"So anyway, I'm going to the county social security office to see if anyone anywhere has ever registered a social security number for the name Elsivia Monsk."

"That won't get you anywhere, Veronica," called Angel sweetly amidst the sound of her ice mask crinkling.

"Excuse me?" Veronica retorted. "I've been doing this for awhile and I always √"

"No, really, it won't work because there is no Elsivia Monsk. It's an anagram for 'Makes Violins.'"

Angel was standing in the doorway of the living room now, leaning on her slender hip so that her body arched modelesque and tan against the white wall. Her pale blonde hair was spilling over one pretty shoulder and curling gently around one flawlessly round breast.

Logan only glanced at her bare midriff as the light of the sun sparkled through an ornate tiffany lamp, catching the tiny blue jewel on her bellybutton. He blinked and turned his head away from the glare to Veronica's face, noticing the puzzled expression upon it.

As Veronica seemed speechless, Angel shrugged prettily and said, "Well, it is. And you're right about it being murder." 


	2. Sweet Smiles

Veronica was still staring confusedly at Angel who seemed not to notice that she had ruffled the petite detective in the least. Absently Angel pulled the tiniest of cell phones, an as yet unmarketed advanced model given to her by Motorola to test out, from the pocket of her second-skin DVB jeans, designed by Victoria Beckham herself exclusively as a gift for Angel's 19th birthday last month. She glanced at the screen and giggled, a delicate musical sound that caused her slender shoulders to shake slightly with her mirth.

"Oh Paris. What a silly goose," she said to the phone in her hand before slipping it back into her pocket.

Then her lovely sparkling blue eyes turned to her cousin and with one graceful movement she was perching on the edge of the couch beside him, one supple leg crossed over the other, leaning gently against his arm and imploring him with her fluttering eyelashes and prettily smiling lips.

"Cuzzie, I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I invited a few people over for the tiniest of get-togethers. Paris has been texting me like every half hour asking when she can see the famous Echolls' house and I know Britney is just dying to meet you."

Logan opened his mouth with an expression that clearly revealed he was about to say no as sarcastically as he could manage. But Angel put two exquisitely French manicured fingers to his lips and tilted her head, flashing him an even brighter smile.

"I know, I know. You're disinclined to acquiesce to my request. But cuzzie, you know I can't go out. People have to come to me. If I go out I keep getting hit on and people take my picture. Then I'm all over weblogs drinking Starbuck's and people decide I'm dating whoever I'm out with. It pushed me to that cocaine habit I had last winter and you know that rehab was really unbearable for me because they had hard water and it nearly ruined my hair. Plus it's bad publicity for mommy."

Angel tossed her head and her soft blonde hair slid across her arm onto his with a gentle rippling that caught the sun light and turned it a shimmering gold and giving the illusion that she had a halo above her head. Her brilliant blues swung toward Veronica, meeting the other girl's gaze directly. "Make him say yes, Ronnie. Please?"

Veronica gasped softly and swallowed. Normally she was extremely averse to being called Ronnie. In fact, it made her angry because it was a form of belittlement to her. But at this moment, all she could do was stare into Angel's eyes. She could feel tiny beads of sweat forming on her upper lip and her hands went cold and clammy. "Um, er, I √" she spluttered. "Can I come?"

With a quick exasperated look at Veronica, Logan returned his cousin's smile with the false sincerity that was his trademark. "Of course, pumpkin. You do whatever you want. This is your house too now."

He stood up, grabbing Veronica's hand and sending Angel nearly sprawling in a heap of long tightly denimmed legs and silkenly tanned arms on the floor. She managed to dig her fingernails into the couch instead and recovered quickly.

She stood, pouting a bit, one full red lip jutting out. "Where are you going?"

"We are going to my room. We'll leave you to your planning." And he turned away, a speechless Veronica in tow.

As Veronica followed Logan back through the house toward his room, she shook her head as if the clear it again. Now that she was beyond that soul-piercing blue gaze she was starting to wonder. What the hell was going on with Angel? That girl was off the weird charts as far as Veronica was concerned. There was something about her that Veronica couldn't quite put her finger on √

"So what do you think of mommy dearest's little golden girl niece?" Logan asked, sprawling unceremoniously onto his bed and crossing his arms behind his head.

"Where did she come from?"

"The innermost circle of hell is my guess." Logan wiggled his eyebrows and grinned up at Veronica. When she gave him an incredulous sideways look he rolled his eyes and went on.

"Mom's sister, Lisa, is going through a sticky public Hollywood divorce and thought Angel's fragile nerves wouldn't be able to handle all of the unpleasantness."

"I didn't know your mom had a sister." She sat on the bed beside him looking distracted from the conversation. Her mind was clear again and she was focused elsewhere on the girl with the anagrammed ID bracelet.

"Not many people do. She's sort of the black sheep in the family. It's almost sad that Angel has such a whore for a mother. Woman's been married more times than Elizabeth Taylor. But I'm ever so pleased she chose to bless us with her daughter. Aren't you?"

Taking a deep breath and chuckling a beat too late, Veronica turned her eyes to Logan. With a wry smile he sat up, coming out of the playfully caustic mood he'd been in with regard to his cousin. "You heard nothing I said, did you? You're thinking about 'Elsivia Monsk' or whatever her name is."

"Yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I just need to be researching violin makers and running another missing persons report. I'm going to go home." She kissed him softly and he ran his fingers against her cheek as she pulled away.

"Are you coming back later for the festivities? It would not be a party without Veronica Mars."

She laughed and pushed him back against the bed. "Oh I'll be back. Who knows what trouble I might get into without you."

Veronica left Logan's room and walked through the house to the front door. As she passed the living room she could hear Angel's voice so she stopped, listening. Angel was half-whispering to whoever was on the other end.

"No, he said it would be fine. Seriously. His girlfriend's a bit weird though. She reacted to me the same way that girl - what's her name? - I don't remember but the one who thought she could make me a lesbian. And you remember what happened to her." There was a pause and then Angel laughed. "I know! It happens everywhere I go. So are you coming over tonight? I invited like everyone in the Gucci Crew." Another, shorter pause. "Great! It's all set. See you at 9. Kisses, love you."

Veronica frowned slightly and started on toward the door again. The sudden hand on her shoulder startled her and she almost squeaked in surprise, whirling around to face Angel who was glaring malevolently at her. "What did you hear?" she demanded. 


	3. Sweet Child

Veronica found herself looking straight into those cute Jackie-Os Angel had been wearing earlier and apparently had decided would calm her sun-induced headache now that she was indoors. Unable to see the beautiful blue eyes behind them, she was able to give Angel a defiant look and pull away.

"All I heard was you bragging about how much you don't like me. Which is fine with me. I don't need you to like me. See you later."

Angel's jaw dropped as Veronica spun away and marched through the front door without another word. Then she was pouting for all she was worth. "What a rude, un-nice person," she grumbled under her breath and stalked toward her room, her blonde locks swaying out behind her like a soft moonlit breeze.

Slamming the door behind her and throwing herself onto the bed, Angel lay quietly for a long time staring up at the ceiling, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. She was thinking of her mother and how it had been a struggle to gain any sort of attention from the woman as she was growing up. Her mother had always been so self-absorbed and only had time for her boyfriend or husband du jour. Angel had been left to the disinterested nannies so often that she didn't know what it was like to really be loved.

She envied Veronica. That was the tall and short of why she was spiteful. In the few hours she had been here, Logan had talked about almost nothing but Veronica. And Angel suspected that Veronica had a great family at home; she hadn't looked unhappy or needy around Logan.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Angel turned over and looked at the framed picture on the nightstand. In it she and her mother stood side by side (though she was standing on a bench to be taller than her mother) and smiling happily at each other. Angel had been about six in the picture. It was just before Daddy was murdered. The last time they had been on the boardwalk all together and happy.

Biting back a deep, heart-rending sob threatening to choke her, Angel turned the picture around and hugged her pillow.

Some time later, Logan knocked on the open door of Angel's bedroom and peeked his head in. "Your guests are arriving, dear cousin."

Having recovered from the crying jag earlier, Angel had gotten deeply into reading the last pages of a tome on Quantum Theory. She jumped at the sudden interruption and gave a soft little murmur of surprise. "Oh! Oh, darn and I'm not dressed yet. I lost track of time. Will you stall for me, cuzzie?"

Pressing his palms together in front of his chest, Logan smiled saccharinely and bowed slightly. "I live to serve." He turned to leave and called over his shoulder, "Hurry it up, Angie."

Making a face at the nickname and standing up, Angel went to her closet. She had been putting off trying to decide what she wanted to wear from amongst the nearly 100 designer dresses all given to her personally by the designers themselves in hopes she would wear them out on the town some evening when the paparazzi were swarming like piranhas in a feeding frenzy. She hadn't worn any of the garments in her closet yet and once she had she would donate it to a charity of some sort. She refused to wear the same thing twice. It was just bad form, she mused.

One hand on her slender hip, biting her luscious full lower lip, Angel flipped through hanger after hanger, dress after dress. This was going to take a while.

Logan held the door open and smiled sweetly as several loudly chattering girls entered. "Welcome ladies. Angel will be with you shortly. Make yourselves at home. I'm sure your intimate evening with friends will be all you've been dreaming about."

One girl, a petite girl with high cheek bones and pale blonde hair, glanced with a practiced sensual laziness and said in a quiet languid voice, "Who said anything about intimate? We're here to party."

Another girl who had a perfectly designed dark brown wig and scarily shiny white teeth elbowed the first and laughed. "She didn't tell him how we are, Paris." She looked at Logan with amused sparkling eyes and said, "We're the Gucci Crew and we don't do anything small."

"That's hot," said Paris and the pack of girls pushed past Logan into the living room, chattering and planning decoration and music setups.

Logan, rolling his eyes, shut the door and muttered, "I'm not opening that door again tonight. You bitches can do it yourselves." He reached into his pocket for his cell phone and pressed the speed dial for Veronica as he wandered back through the house to light a fire under Angel.

Reaching Veronica's voicemail he cursed quietly and lamented the fact that he would soon be in a house entirely overrun with celebutantes, crack-ingesting celebrities, and other harbingers of annoyance without any sort of relief. He knocked on Angel's door and hit the speed dial again.

Listening to the ringing, Logan knocked on the door again and frowned. He pushed the door open without waiting just as Veronica finally picked up the phone. Glancing around the room and not seeing Angel he frowned a bit deeper and Veronica nearly hung up on him.

"Are you there? What's going on, Logan?"

"Sorry. Just went to find Angel because her guests are here but she's not in the room. Must have gone down the back stairs for some odd reason."

Shrugging, Logan left the door open and wandered in the direction of the back stairs. He figured Angel was either dodging her guests or doing a private line of coke in the servants' hall, not wanting to share or some other such nonsense. He was not going to allow her to reform her habit or make him entertain her guests, that was for damned sure.

"I'm sure she's ok," Veronica said dismissively, thinking of the conversation she had overheard earlier. "Listen, I've found something interesting about this 'Elsivia Monsk' girl. I'll be over there in a few minutes."

"Sounds perfect. I will fire up the jacuzzi and we can √"

There was a scream from the hall behind Logan and he whirled around, racing back toward Angel's room. Inside, Paris was kneeling just behind the bed and looking at something out of sight from the doorway. She looked as Logan appeared. Logan dropped the phone on the bed and ran around the other side to where Angel lay sprawled, wearing only her lacy underwear. Paris was pushing two fingers against her throat, trying to find a pulse.

Paris moaned tearfully, "I think she's dead." 


End file.
